Occupy Oakland: One year later (Analysis)

This time last year, the Occupy Wall Street movement was making noise, taking a stand against corrupt banks and the bailouts they received, as well as foreclosures and layoffs, which left many in the American middle class suddenly on a par with ethnic minorities, the poor and the homeless – who, it must be said, have been dealing with these conditions for decades, if not centuries.

Oct. 10 marks the one-year anniversary of Occupy Oakland.

Although the movement’s overall presence has faded, proof that Occupy Oakland is not simply going to go away can be seen during its upcoming one-year anniversary birthday party, to be held Wednesday, Oct. 10. Planned events include a “chalkupy” drawing at 14th and Broadway and a BBQ/potluck at Snow Park, scheduled to feature a slideshow, open mic, presentations on foreclosure defense and anti-police brutality and an art space.

In the beginning

Occupy Oakland’s first rally, at Frank Ogawa Plaza in the heart of Oakland’s downtown and just a few feet from City Hall, had an energy, which can only be described as revolutionary. Here were the poor, the downtrodden and the social/economic justice activist contingent, joined by teachers, labor organizers and everyday citizens who were pissed off at the direction the country was going in.

Placards and banners with statements upholding the “99%” were everywhere. The vibe was one of solidarity, of common ground being attained through the similarity of people’s experiences. Although there were already rumblings that Occupy Wall Street was primarily a “white” movement, from the outset, that wasn’t the case with Oakland. That first rally contained a diverse demographic; many people of color spoke into megaphones, linking OWS and the banking crisis with hot-button local issues like police brutality and the failure of the legal system to enact justice.

By that night, a tent city was erected, as people camped out in Ogawa Plaza – rechristened in the name of Oscar Grant, the 22 year-old Hayward resident fatally shot by BART police at the Fruitvale Station on New Year’s Day, 2009. There were maybe about 15 or 20 tents that first night. By the next day, there were 35, then 50. Anarchist collectives set up volunteer-run food kitchens; evening General Assemblies drew hundreds of Oaklanders to the downtown, as unamplified speakers mic-checked their way through proposals intended to reclaim democracy for the people.

Those early days of Occupy Oakland were heady. Initially, some city officials seemed to support the movement, even if they weren’t aware of everything that was going on. City Councilwoman Desley Brooks spent a night camping out in the plaza, indicating her support, though other Councilmembers remained initially skeptical. The encampment added infrastructure, such as a library and a kid’s zone; organizers formed subcommittees and led strategy sessions. Meanwhile, the number of tents ballooned, surpassing 100, then 150.

During the day, the encampment was mostly peaceful, with guest speakers including actor-activist Danny Glover and former Black Panther Chief of Staff David Hilliard. There were performances by local musicians, including Boots Riley and Rocker Tee. Screen printers made free posters and hung them on lines to dry out. The evening General Assemblies were well-attended. But following the evening GAs, the vibe shifted and became more of a sketchy party scene. Reports of uncomfortability from nearby businesses began to filter back, as did rumors of drug use, scattered instances of violence, sexual assaults and prostitution. Attempts by the city to work with the Occupiers on coordinating homeless and mental health services were rebuffed; mainstream media outlets were barred from entering the camp without permission – which didn’t stop them from airing stories that were often critical of the campers and the movement.

Something had to give. It finally did on Oct. 25 when the Oakland Police Department raided the camp in the pre-dawn hours, on the orders of City Administrator Deanna Santana and Police Chief Howard Jordan (Mayor Jean Quan was out of town). A few hours after the raid, tents and people’s belongings lay strewn about like the wreckage from a hurricane; a chain-link fence was erected, ostensibly to keep the Occupiers from re-occupying. In actuality, it galvanized the movement.